rainbows and setting suns
by ink-stained dreams
Summary: Seven characters, and seven colors to define them. A rainbow look at Marauder Era Hogwarts
1. Red: Sirius

_rainbows and setting suns, they all  
>come into the darkness <em>when we were one  
>—<strong>Oxygen Mask by Eisley<strong>

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><p>This is a color-based look at Marauder Era Hogwarts, written for the VIBGYORRule of Seven Challenge by CeliaEquus. I'll be going in ROYGBIV order, with a new character for each chapter. There will be seven chapters, and each entry will be 350 words long, which, of course, is a multiple of seven.

At the beginning of every chapter there be some lyrics from a song by Eisley, which is a wonderful band with awesome songs. All the words in the verses that remind me of the prompt color will be un-italicized.

**So basically besides all the tl;dr stuff: it's a Marauder Era collection based on the rainbow and inspired by Eisley songs, please read and REVIEW, there's a dear, enjoy~**

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><p><em>even though I miss you, I'm thankful<br>it's obvious that this_ war _was futile  
>so put your hands together and clap for<br>the_ painful _choice you've made 'cause it's right_

—**Smarter by Eisley **

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><p>"Ooo, Sirius got a <em>howler<em>!"

Sirius rolled his eyes at James' cry, shoving away the boy's elbow as it tried to dig into his side. The creamy parchment unfolded sharply, the crimson ribbon that bound it unrolling into a serpentine tongue. He stared at the angular face in the paper as it opened its mouth, red strip snapping and coiling angrily, and he waited for the words he knew were coming.

"_SIRIUS ORION BLACK,_" the letter screeched in his mother's all-too-familiar, acrimonious tones. Sirius's stomach turned over and the back of his throat went dry and sour."_YOU HAVE DEFILED YOUR NAME AND YOUR FAMILY. WRETCHED CHILD, STAIN OF DISHOUNOR, _SHAME _OF MY FLESH—_"

He snapped his hand up and leveled his wand at the howler. Nostrils flaring, he hissed, "_Incendio_."

The letter gave a dry scream as the red flames licked up around the angry creases of the eyes. The sound crumbled into a high-pitched warble as it dropped to the table, blackening and curling in on itself. James gave a whoop of approval and a raucous laugh as Remus patiently put out the fire with a well-placed _Aguamenti_. Peter smiled and babbled something encouraging. Automatically, Sirius quipped an answer, proud and mocking, not even listening to the words coming out of his mouth.

He smirked at his Gryffindor friends, ignoring the stinging behind his eyes and the trembling of his insides.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair as he joked, and he remembered cool, slender fingers pushing his unruly locks back from his forehead. He remembered grey eyes lighting up with pleasure at an ingenious prank or a perfectly performed spell. He remembered the hot scarlet burning of his cheeks for a word out of turn and the room boiling with her anger.

He remembered choosing gold over silver and red over green.

"_Another Black, is it? Well, there is an obvious path for you…but you are different, are you not, Sirius?"_

"_Am I supposed to answer that?"_

"_Not necessarily, child…still, perhaps…you would prefer bravery instead of cunning?"_

"…_yes."_

Sirius had always liked red better.

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><p><strong>Remember, kids: Reviews make the world go 'round, but faves without reviews make the world fall off its axis.<strong>


	2. Orange: Andromeda

_and I was carrying a deep hope for you  
>a little pack of <em>fire  
><em>I watched you from afar<em>  
><em>a<em> blazing, burning _star_

—**I Wish by Eisley**

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><p>She was <em>not <em>staring.

She was not the kind of girl that _stared_. It didn't matter if the individual was astoundingly ugly or had a singing mandrake attached to their head, staring was what dull people did, because they had nothing better to do and nothing interesting to say. Andromeda was not _dull_. Therefore, she most certainly _did not stare_, and definitely not at unfairly handsome boys who smiled too often and laughed too loud and whose shamefully unruly hair turned bright auburn in the late afternoon sun.

Of all the preposterous thoughts.

Andromeda flicked her dark eyes back down to the textbook, snapping the ginger covers together with more force than was probably necessary. She played with the worn edge of the hardcover, studiously not looking up at the group of Hufflepuffs fooling around on the lawn. Not that she _wanted_ to look up. Not that she was trying very hard not to look up. That would be silly. Andromeda flipped her hair back, raising her eyes languidly, because there should be no reason at all why she couldn't look up, right?

The light bled through his amber eyes, turning them near-gold. They dulled just as quickly as he twisted, laughing, reaching for the ball. His stretched form passed in front of the setting sun and he became a perfect black silhouette against the orange sky.

_Merlin's pants, _she lamented, running a frantic hand through her hair. _I'm losing my mind! _Traitorously, her eyes slid back to the boy. She imagined hundreds of Black ancestors rolling in their graves. He was tackled by one of his friends, and he cried out in protest, grinning. A small smile of her own alighted on her face. The ancestors were having veritable seizures at this point.

Still, the fact held: Andromeda Black did not stare. But if she did—this is hypothetically, of course—then perhaps she _might _be staring at one Ted Tonks. Hypothetically.

Because honestly, it had to penetrate his thick head _someday_, and then he would finally, _finally _stare back.

Andromeda carefully not-stared some more.

He looked up.

_Aha._

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><p><strong>Forgive my pathetic attempts at humor and bestow reviews upon me, please?<strong>


	3. Yellow: Narcissa

_it's happening all the time  
><em>_when I open my eyes  
><em>_I'm still taken by surprise  
><em>_I hold _sunlight_ and swallow _fireflies

—**Brightly Wound by Eisley**

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><p>Narcissa giggled, her delicate fingers clenching tighter around the larger hand in hers. "Can I take this silly blindfold off yet, Lucius?" she asked as he pulled her along.<p>

"Certainly not," he retorted. "And it's not silly."

She tittered again, letting her boyfriend lead her to the "surprise" he had in store. Within several moments, she felt the gentle rustling of taller grasses against her dress. The summer air wound sweet and syrupy around her. Suddenly, Lucius came to a stop, and Narcissa stumbled. He steadied her, his firm hands on her arms making her stomach flutter. His fingers moved briefly behind her head, and the handkerchief fell away from her eyes. She squinted into the brightness, blue eyes slowly widening as they adjusted to the light.

"Surprise."

"Oh, _Lucius_…"

She moved further into the burnished green field, face alight with wonder as she drank in the sight: the gently rippling stream, a glinting reflection of the sun-bleached sky; the bending tree casting black-and-gold patterns on the earth; bushels of white and yellow flowers clustered against the banks. Picking up the skirt of her dress, she ran to the tree and knelt in its shade. Reaching out, she gently tilted one bloom towards her. Six slender petals flared out around the ridged cup in the center. Her breath caught in her throat. (_remembering a day in the garden with two older sisters—one wild, one dark—pointing out the flowers that held her name_)She felt Lucius sit down behind her, leaning against the trunk.

She let the flower go and passed her slightly trembling hand over her lips as it bobbed into place. (_except not, because she only had one sister now, and that one was slipping far, far away, so Narcissa really oughtn't think about this_)

"Narcissus flowers," she whispered. Narcissa turned around and moved to sit beside Lucius. She wound her arms around his chest. "Thank you, Lucius."

"Thought you'd like it," he said, self-satisfied, slinging an arm around her shoulder.

"It's perfect."

"Good."

She smiled and nestled closer to him, forgetting all about memories and not-sisters.

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><p><strong>Not exactly what I first had in mind, but I hope you guys like it, nonetheless. You should tell me in your reviews. *hinthint*<strong>

**Next up is Severus with green.**


	4. Green: Severus

green_ is set so beautifully  
>against your thoughtful face<br>that I must close my eyes  
>and turn my face<em>

—**Lost at Sea by Eisley**

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><p>Severus had never been able to figure out the exact shade of her eyes. Others—people of lesser intellect, too dense to care, who didn't know her like he did—might have been content to leave it at "green" and move on.<p>

_Green_.

What insult!

There was so much more than "green" trapped between the mahogany lashes and pooled around the dark pupils. He could never help catching himself just _staring_, analyzing the way the sunlight caught the threads of gold or how the darkness brought out shadows of blue.

(_"…Sev? What're you staring at?"_)

He started checking out books on art from the library, thumbing through their pages and hoping to find a name he could put to that color. _Jade_, they offered, but that was far too light. _Bottle_, one suggested, but it did not have nearly enough blue. _Teal. _No, _too _blue. _Lime. _Too bright. _Olive. _Too mild.

(_"Severus? Hell-ooo. You still in there?"_)

It took him ages to figure out that he was going about it all the wrong way; it was impossible to approach something like _Lily's eyes _with his usual academic bull-headedness. That would never work. He would have to simply look and look and look until the right word fell into his head, and then he would finally be able to say the name of that maddening, mercurial color.

_That _approach was useless, as well.

(_"Se-ev."_)

The truth was, there never was and there never would be anything like Lily's eyes. There was no precedent that could give him a label.

Of course, by the time he finally came to that conclusion, he was reduced to sneaking glances across the Great Hall, staring amid crowds. They weren't his eyes to look at anymore.

(_"…"_)

Severus brought his head up slightly, his gaze catching on her: one hand tangled in the red hair, chewing her lip, light bleeding through her eyes as she studied.

Light-dark-bright-soft-clear-sharp-blue-gold-green. Lily Green.

She glanced up, caught his stare, and for a moment it looked like her mouth was forming his name.

He went back to his book.

(_"Nothing, Lily."_)

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><p><strong>Reviews fill my life with sunshine and rainbows~<strong>


	5. Blue: Remus

_and there are things that follow this quietly to pass  
><em>_we've seen all those faces, we won't go looking for trouble  
><em>_the_ rain_, it tumbled down  
><em>_through the cracks in the_ sky  
><strong>—Just Like We Do by Eisley<strong>

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><p>Remus woke from dreams of black and red. Shivering, he sat up, searching for the familiar pile of clothes. He clenched his teeth and pushed himself to his feet, boards groaning underneath. Remus stumbled to the disheveled pile, sighed, pulled on the newly-torn garments.<p>

He hobbled to the dusty bed and sat, the light in the room turning from cobalt to cornflower as he waited for Madam Pomfrey to come.

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><p>By the time he was let out of the Hospital Wing the early-morning drizzle had transitioned into a steady blanket of water. Remus moved carefully amid the hallways, conscious of his new bandages. Madam Morrit looked up as he finally crossed the threshold of the library and offered, "The window seats are all empty."<p>

"Thank you."

Shoes squeaking against the hardwood, he limped to the back and sank into a cushioned alcove. Blue-grey reflections streaked in wavering patterns along his skin as he turned his face to the glass.

Eventually, there was rushing and laughter, and he closed his eyes while students entered the library.

"What d'you think you're doing sitting here?"

Remus directed his gaze towards the petulant voice and saw two brawny Hufflepuffs.

One eyebrow rose. "I appear to be, as you said, sitting."

"Think you're a bloody smart arse, do ya? This is our place, so shove it, yeah?"

**_The Wolf sees the pulse in his neck. Wolf is not asleep yet. Wolf sees _****blood_. Wolf smells prey—_**

Remus saw other window seats still unoccupied, gave a pained smile. "Gladly." Apparently, his hindered pace was too slow; one shoved past Remus before he could get out of the way. Remus smelled the dark **_sweet_** pumping of his arteries and clenched his teeth against the reaction in his gut.

He took himself to the pillow at the next open seat.

Remus wasn't left staring out into the blue-washed landscape very long before another voice interrupted him.

"You're back!"

He turned to a familiar trio.

"Blimey, Rem, you look awful," Sirius said.

"You should've seen the other guy," Remus retorted, smiling.

**_The Wolf turns over and is still_****.**


	6. Indigo: Bellatrix

**Gah, I'm sorry for the huge gap between last chapter and this one. :P RL caught up with me. It does that sometimes. Anyway, here's the Indigo chapter, and please remember to review!**

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><p><em>but oh no, oh no, no, no, no, no<br>bones crack and fingers blister, I might console you, but look at my sisters  
>brilliant like fireflies up in their <em>bedroom_  
>but oh, <em>Mr. Moon_ shines down on my home, it's where I belong, without you_

—**Mr. Moon by Eisley**

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><p>Bellatrix Black did not labor long under the impression that she was loved best. In her few years as an only child, maybe, she had believed that the shining gaze and the tender hand were meant for her. After Andromeda was born, however, Bellatrix realized exactly where she stood.<p>

She may have been bright and she may have been eager, but she was not easy to love. Too fierce. Too dark. Too _much_.

And when she saw all the weakness that came with _love_, well—she thought it just as good that she had no part in it. Why should she want to be pinned as the clever one or the pretty one? To end up smothered like Andy or cowed like Cissy? Better to keep to her corners and have nothing to do with it.

Being feared, though, she would raze towns for that feeling. Bellatrix would march until exhaustion left indigo kisses under her eyes to taste the utter submission of one soul. She knew this the moment she stepped into Hogwarts and saw the way the children trembled at her name. Bellatrix _Black_. Then she taught them to kneel for her first name alone, a terror in and of herself. Three years she relished in it.

Until one after the other, Darling and Dear mounted the stone steps, were Sorted into _her_ House, walked _her _halls, charmed _her _followers, violated _her _home.

So found herself standing in the bruised shadows, looking down on her sleeping sisters with dark eyes. Narcissa, only a first year but already so beautiful she gleamed, and Andromeda, hardly thirteen but so daring she blazed. Bellatrix curled each hand around a banister of their beds, leaning into the space between them. She narrowed her eyes, thought how _easy _it could be to show them the meaning of her warrior name, how their blood might pool dark purple under their skin. She could make them hers.

But for now Bellatrix turned and walked to her own bed, the moon across on her back.

Better to bend them over time and let them break themselves.


End file.
